June 28, 2012

  • TALES FROM THE BRAT FARM

    Today was doctor day.  I'm down to seeing the doctor at the Wound Center now every two weeks since I am almost healed.  It's going to seem strange when I finally don't have to worry about changing any bandages or applying special creams or honey (yes, honey from New Zealand that has been irradiated to kill off any spores or whatever).  It looks like creamed honey and is just as sticky as you might think.  It smells like honey.  I told the doctor that it makes you want to put it on your English muffin or toast or something.  He laughed and said the rep that came to sell it to them actually took a taste of it to show that it was not the least bit dangerous nor were there any possible bad side effects.  Now that is a great rep!

    I kept busy all day folding clothes, making up gravy from the roast drippings.  The Beast fed the dog the last of the pot roast since there wasn't much left.  He didn't toss out the gravy this time and I added it to the new roast's drippings after I did my *thing* but before I thickened it.  Took less to thicken with the gravy added from yesterday.  The dog loved the pot roast and haunted me the whole time I was in the kitchen.  I know he was just hoping for more.  He even followed me into the computer room and had to make sure I hadn't brought in anything to eat.

    He doesn't beg but what he does is lay down close to you while you eat and he waits to see what you do with your plate when you are done.  I scrape any leftovers that he can eat into his dish but the Beast will put his plate down on the floor.  It makes me mad for a stupid reason.  I just don't think it's a good idea for the dog to get used to eating off a plate.  The next step is him thinking he's entitled to any food on a plate with no one in front of it.  Makes me worry about someone going to the bathroom, especially if he's hungry.  I may be wrong but that's just the way I feel.  He is NOT one of our kids.  He's a D - O - G.  DOG.  Not a people.  Period.

    Since I am usually always up late, he comes to my computer room door and will usually whine a bit when he wants to go out.  I get up, let him out and then wait for him to come back to the back door.  He is impatient when he wants back in so he uses a paw and hits the door so it bounces a bit in the frame.  If my computer room door is closed and he needs to go out NOW, I swear to you, he tries to open the damn door!  I know it's him when he does it but I won't be surprised if he actually manages it.  Heck, I had a friend whose cats used the toilet to do their things AND they also could open a door.  Of course, cats use their paws with much more agility than a dog so I would be astonished if he DID manage to open my door.  It won't be for lack of trying though. 

    The Beast surprised me today.  He was annoyed that what came via UPS didn't get here yesterday like they said but, once the package was opened, I told him it was a nice surprise and it was just fine.  It threw me for a loop that the package said *Perishable*.  It was hot tamales he had ordered.  Oh, not REAL Mexican tamales.  That would be too much to expect since he doesn't like them as much as *I* do.  But these are the tamales hot dog vendors that were around during the summer (when I was a kid) sold.  Oh, how I loved when the hot dog vendor took his place on the corner near our house.  I could hardly wait. 

    For a quarter, you could get a slice of heaven on a poppy seed bun (hot dog) with all the trimmings....ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, onions, tomatoes and peppers if you desired.  Or, if you had a dime, you could get either a tamale roll or bunch.  The bunch was just a tamale that was divided up into four sections.  I preferred the roll because it seemed like more although the vendor said the weight of each was the same.  All of it was perfectly steamed and you would start drooling just standing near their stand.  Once in a while, our dad would treat all of us kids to a hot dog or tamales, whichever we wanted.  What a conundrum!  Which did we prefer?  I used to get a tamale ... A LOT.  Dad saved some money on me.  Not that I didn't like the hot dogs; I did.  I just found I preferred the tamales when I was given a choice. 

    I got out our steamer and made us up some tamales for our lunch.  Melt in your mouth and just the right *bite* to the filling.  We have two unopened packages of 10 and six left from the one I opened today.  He said they were supposed to be a birthday surprise for me.  I told him, *If you had told me that to begin with, I would not have let you have any.  You ATE two of MY tamales!*  I was joking, of course.  I'm actually surprised he shared them with ME. 

    The Beast is better but still not well.  He IS going in to the doctor's office on Friday (our regular doctor, Lex) to get blood drawn and to pee in a cup so they can run a test to see if the bacteria is all gone.  He's a bit afraid it was a staph infection he might have had and, if so, that is so very resistant to antibiotics that he might well have to go on more but a different kind than the cipro he was taking.  Only time will tell.

    I have so many problems with this damn wireless internet bouncing in and out on me that it makes getting my blog posted a nightmare at times.  But...it's up and running (seemingly) smoothly right now so I think I will try to get this done now.  Love you all.  Please stay cool and well hydrated over the next few incredibly hot days we have ahead of us.  We are expecting temperatures over 100 here tomorrow.  I'm going out early to pick some tomatoes for us.  If a lot are ready, I will get the Beast out there to help me and probably make up some salsa or something with the overflow.  Be good.  Drive carefully, please.